


Change Of Hands

by RodeoQueen



Series: Keeping Up With A Himbo [1]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Dante (Devil May Cry) is a Sweetheart, Dante Is A Himbo, Dante is a Mess (Devil May Cry), Domestic Fluff, F/M, First Dates, Fluff, I wish though, M/M, Other, Romance, based off a tweet i saw years ago, not sponsored by digiorno's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29190801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RodeoQueen/pseuds/RodeoQueen
Summary: Dante takes you to his place for the first time for a simple meal of pizza and a few games of poker. How the hell could this go wrong?
Relationships: Dante (Devil May Cry)/Original Character(s), Dante (Devil May Cry)/Original Female Character(s), Dante (Devil May Cry)/Original Male Character(s), Dante (Devil May Cry)/Reader, Dante (Devil May Cry)/You
Series: Keeping Up With A Himbo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2143119
Comments: 3
Kudos: 46





	Change Of Hands

Your first time at Dante’s place, an informal date of sorts, was charmingly humble. You remember it fondly. 

Dante invited you to the upper floor of Devil May Cry, where a small kitchen and dining area laid. You sat at the counter, watching that tall white-haired man open his a-bit-on-the-older-side fridge, opting to take a beer. 

“What are you feeling for a drink? Y’know, while we wait for the pizza.” He gestured to the frozen pizza he threw into the oven next to the barely-used stove. 

“I can do one of those strawberry sodas you’ve been hiding behind that Bud-Light six-pack.” You teased. He sighed. He was hoping you didn't see his secret stash. 

“Alright.” He slid you a cold bottle, meeting your outstretched hand perfectly. 

Sitting next to Dante, drinking that chilled glass of sweet artificial strawberry and drinking in those perfectly-carved features on his face, he went on to take out a set of cards. 

His poker face was so attractive, that stern silver-fox emerging from the goofball guy you’ve been eyeing since forever. It was a nice change, but either version of this man entertained you. 

Banter after banter, the game of cards became an affair of cheerful competition. 

You had won another round of poker, puffing your chest out in victory as Dante groaned. 

“You are better than this than I thought.” He chuckled. 

“I’m happy to impress.” You flirted, tipping the bottle against your lips. Dante’s baby blues flitted from your eyes to your mouth. 

Before the tension grew, a red timer dinged. His serious expression snapped back to puppy-like exuberation. 

“Oh! Pizza’s done.” He rolled up his sleeves, a vein tracing up his muscular arm. 

“Do you need help?” You asked, wanting to be a good visitor. He waved at you to sit back down. 

“Nah. Allow me.” You smiled, eyes appreciating that well-shaped backside of his. He put on an oven mitt, obviously a red one, on his left hand. 

That was when Dante decided to open the oven door with the hand with the oven mitt on and take out the pan of pizza, literally burning hot metal, with his bare right hand. 

You had no choice but to watch as those charming baby-blues widened in shock and betrayal of his own reflexes gone stupid. 

“Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Shit!” You watched as he tossed the pan on the counter. 

“Oh my god.” Was all you could muster. 

“Are-are you okay?” You stammered, not knowing what just happened. You came up next to him, smaller hands examining his injury. 

“I always forget which hand is which.” He sheepishly said, waggling his red fingers in your hold. 

“Good thing for that healing factor.” You murmur, watching the redness fade back to his usually pale skin. 

You returned his hand to him. 

This was the Legendary Devil Hunter. The world is such a strange place. 

He looked at you and your blank expression aimed at him. 

“Uh? Bon Appetit?” He offered you a pre-cut slice, steaming hot. It was like he forgot what just happened. 

“Oh! Of course.” You snapped out of your daze, grabbing it from his hand. He grinned, toasting you with his beer. 

“Cheers.” He said, bumping his slice with yours. 

“Dante, take the oven mitt off your other hand?” You suggested. 

“Oh right! Well, technically left.” He laughed at his own joke and you joined in. 

_“I literally can’t not fuck him.”_ You thought to yourself. 

Who knew you would marry this man a year later? 

**Author's Note:**

> _I had to do it. I had to make a new series about domestic fluff and himbo antics while all my WIPS and more serious series lay undone._
> 
> _-Rodeo_


End file.
